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Текст песни Brian Setzer - Switchblade 327

Brian Setzer - Switchblade 327 слова песни




Written by b. setzerSwitchblade 327Lit cigarette in his handSteel-toed boots on the acceleratorOil leakin outta the panSwitchblade, three two-barrelsGettin there as fast as he canAll juiced up like a hot carburetorSpittin gas onto the fanBlacktop burnout, saturday nightTry to catch him if you canSwitchblade 327Switchblade, seven come elevenSwitchblade, hes all rightWhen he gets drunk he fights all nightSwitchblade 327Pullin way ahead of the packChop top deuce, saturday nightFlames shootin outta the backSwitchblade, dont cut him offHe wont cut you no slackHell cut you to ribbons if you come to townHell carve his name in your backBlacktop burnout, saturday nightTry to catch him if you canSwitchblade 327Switchblade, seven come elevenSwitchblade, hes all rightWhen he gets drunk he fights all nightSwitchblade 327Someone was calling his nameAll he could hear was his engineAnd the sound of the pouring down rainSwitchblade 327Ran 125 down the laneBut someone had cut both his fuel linesAnd the 32 burst into flamesBlacktop burnout, saturday nightTry to catch him if you canSwitchblade 327Switchblade, seven come elevenSwitchblade, hes all rightWhen he gets drunk he fights all night (repeat)

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